


This is Not a Drive By

by FeatheredWings



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Sourwolf Derek Hale, Stiles, Teen Wolf, derek - Freeform, sterek fluff, stiles stilinski - Freeform, teen wolf fluff, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 07:18:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1217380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatheredWings/pseuds/FeatheredWings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sterek oneshot: Stiles is feeling overwhelmed by his feelings for Derek, when Derek decides to drop by to tell him that he will be gone for a few days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Not a Drive By

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf and all its characters are not owned, but only borrowed, by me.  
> This fic was inspired by a RP session between my best friend and I.  
> Takes place a day after Scott gets his tattoo from Derek. Contains mild spoilers for 3x01 - Tattoo.

Stiles Stilinski didn’t know what came over him that particular day, but ever since lunch time waves of vacillation washed over him, and they showed no mercy – they pulled him down, bobbed him up, and spun him around and around until he could hardly take it anymore.

The amount of sarcasm he used that day was twice - heck even triple - the amount he normally weaves into his conversations. Sarcasm is his only defense, and in that state, defending his sanity seemed to be the priority. But Scott, who he simply cannot avoid without upraising suspicion, seemed to be unfazed by it. Or if he did suspect something, he kept it to himself.

After coming back from school that day, he went straight up to his room. He decided to make it up to the fridge later. Head throbbing, he dropped his backpack on the floor and slid down the wall, putting his head into his hands as if that would somehow suppress those preposterous thoughts.

Just as he proceeded to massage his temples, the door of his room swung open, hitting the wall as it reached its full capacity, and in its entryway stood Derek Hale - the cause of all the commotion in his head.

Stiles immediately shot up into a standing position and managed to let out a groan while recovering from the mini heart attack – both from the cause of the sudden noise, and well… the sight of the man-wolf standing before him right now. He found his voice as he leaned against the computer desk. “How is it possible that you keep coming into my house? Is teleportation one of your new wolfy powers?” This came out in one rushed breath.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “I told your father I was looking for you, and he let me in.” He casually shuts the door and advances towards Stiles, placing his hands on both sides of the pale-faced boy. Derek swears that Stiles needs to get his butt out into the sun more often. “Besides, if I could teleport I wouldn’t be coming in through the door now, would I?”

Derek’s face was mere inches from Stiles’. Stiles could feel sweat forming on his forehead. How could someone do things like that to him? How could someone be so intimidating and yet kind hearted; so fierce and yet so gentle? When Derek held him back that day and commanded him to hold Scott down, he just did it. He didn’t understand why he was so obedient to someone who seems to think so little of him, and refuted this with the fact that he only complied to Derek’s wishes because Scott was a mutual friend.

When Stiles didn’t reply, Derek spoke up. “What’s wrong? Why were you looking like you just swallowed a fly, y’know, before I came in?” Derek’s eyes bore holes into Stiles’.

Stiles gulped, his eyes darting from Derek’s eyes to his lips then back to his eyes again. “Nothing.” _Good job, Brain._

Derek let out a barely audible sigh, and then went to sit on the edge of the unmade bed. “Fine,” he said after a hard breath, “Anyways, the reason I'm here today is just to let you know that I'm leaving town for a bit. You’d like that, huh?”

Glancing up, Derek found Stiles frowning at him, his arms crossed. “First of all, you’d wanna tell me why you’re leaving, and second, why do you think I’d like that?”

Derek mimicked Stiles’ tone. “First of all, I’m heading up North with Isaac for a few days to find out more about the Alpha pack. I need to know who their leader is. And second,” a corner of his mouth turns up a little, “We don’t seem to get along much with each other, so I figured you’d be happy that I’m out of your hair for a bit.” He stands up.

Stiles closed the distance between Derek and him. “A bit doesn’t seem too reassuring.” He didn’t know where this sudden bout of courage came from, but he placed his hands on Derek’s firm shoulders, shaking him a little. “Derek. You're either blind or an idiot. And since you're obviously not blind, you're a real idiot.”

This time, Stiles’ moved in so that his face was mere inches from Derek’s. That caught Derek off guard, and he turned away, a slight blush creeping up his neck. “W-what… you’re the idiot.”

“Derek?”

Derek turned back to Stiles. “Yeah?”

“When are you leaving?” Stiles inched a little closer.

“Um. Tomorrow morning.” Derek gulped at the intensity of Stiles’ stare. _Why is his heart threatening to burst out of his chest?!_ He shook his head slightly to get rid of the possibility.

Stiles, however, was on a roll. “You wanna know what I really think about you, Derek Hale?”

“Stiles… are you okay? I –”

“Of course I am, you hunk of dog hair.” Stiles turned and quickly pinched himself. Hard. _Holy Batman, Stiles, did you really just say that. That’s it; Flirting with Werewolves 101 is on my summer list._

“Hunk of… excuse me?”

Stiles turned back with a sheepish grin, wringing his hands; his impetuous bravery ephemeral. Derek had his head cocked to one side.

Stiles cleared his throat and shrugged. “Nothing,” he said in a joking but unconvincing tone. “I was joking. C’mon, huh?” Awkwardly moving his arm forward, he connected his fist to Derek’s shoulder.

“Right,” Derek said after Stiles’ arm fell back to his side, “I gotta go soon, Stiles, so if you wanna tell me something you better say it now.” He unconsciously stepped closer to Stiles.

Stiles took a step back for reclamation of personal space, and stumbled until his back hit the wall. Being the rebel he is, Derek trespassed again.

Pressing his back harder against the wall, Stiles wished that it had the properties of quicksand just this once. “I-...uh... It's... I d-don't hate you, Derek.”

Derek gave Stiles a teasing snarl then returns his personal space to him. “Good. Now that that’s settled, I should get going then. See ya in a week’s time.”

As Derek turns to leave, Stiles gathered up what’s left of his courage and spoke up. “Derek… I said I don’t hate you.”

The sturdy werewolf turned back to see Stiles looking at him with… _Are those googly eyes?_ Derek’s heart picked up its pace again, but he calmly picked pretend flint of his shirt. “Mhmm, I heard that the first time. For the record, I don’t hate you too.”

“Oh for the love of-”

It all happened so swiftly. Derek didn’t even see it coming. All he knew - all he felt - were Stiles’ lips pressing against his, urgent but soft.

The kiss ended as fast as it happened, leaving Derek stunned for a split second before he manages to regain his composure.

Forcing his knees to not be jelly, Derek went up to the door, opened it, and started to head out into the hallway. Halfway out the door, he paused and, without turning back, he muttered a string of words that sounded to Stiles like, “I like you too.”


End file.
